


Hit The Gas

by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)



Series: Imagine Tony & Bucky [17]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M, veteran bucky barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 16:44:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3576609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">Prompt: imagine if bucky is just sitting in his car trying to find that one song to start driving to when suddenly a stranger (ofc tony) gets in his car and yells at him to drive so he would save his ass from jail.</span>
</p><p>Bucky fiddled with the radio, scanning through the stations, desperately trying to find something that wouldn’t make him want to drive off the road.</p><p>This was easier said than done, because he had the musical tastes of a ninety year old, or so his friends claimed. Also, his car was a relic, and the radio had dials, and the antenna was half hanging off, so mostly what came through was static.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hit The Gas

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted over on [imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/). Be sure to stop on over and also enjoy the amazing contributions of [Potrix](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/pseuds/Potrix), [27dragons](http://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons), [InnerCinema](http://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerCinema), and [kamaete](http://kamaete.tumblr.com/)!

Bucky fiddled with the radio, scanning through the stations, desperately trying to find something that wouldn’t make him want to drive off the road.

This was easier said than done, because he had the musical tastes of a ninety year old, or so his friends claimed. Also, his car was a relic, and the radio had dials, and the antenna was half hanging off, so mostly what came through was static.

But, because it was his lucky day, he stumbled onto an old favorite of his, “I Don’t Want To Set The World On Fire,” by the Ink Spots. With a smile, he cranked it up, and prepared to pull out of his parking spot.

Which was when his passenger side door was yanked open and a wild eyed man jumped in shouting, “Drive!” as the Ink Spots crooned, “In my heart I have but one desire, and that one is you, no other will do.”

"Excuse me?"

The man slouched down in the seat, but not before looking out of the window, as if searching the crowd for something. He was surprisingly well dressed, with stylishly messy brown hair, a neat beard, a mouth made for kissing, and exuding just the right amount of attitude.

"Hi, yeah, a little short on time, I’ll explain while we’re enroute, just," he peered into the mirror, and looked over his shoulder, "drive."

"You can’t just jump in someone’s car and demand…"

"Can. Did, actually," he babbled, and this time he turned the full force of his frantic gaze on Bucky. "Please, please,  _please_ , just hit the gas, handsome.”

Maybe it was the fear he saw in the guy’s warm brown eyes, or maybe it was the fact that he was gorgeous, and looking at Bucky like he was his last hope, or maybe it was just that this was the most interesting thing to have happened to him since getting shipped back home, but he did as asked.

"Buckle up," he instructed, pulling out and away, heart hammering wildly in his chest.

"Yes! Thank fuck, you,  _you_  are a life saver my friend, I owe you everything.”

"I’ll settle for a name," he answered, and hey, that even sounded smooth.

"Tony," the guy said, "and wow, what the hell are we listening to?"

Bucky didn’t even have time to protest before Tony fiddled with the radio, somehow instantly tuning it to another station, one with wailing guitars.

"Now  _this_  is getaway music!”

"Hey! It’s bad enough you just helped yourself to a ride, now you’re gonna fuck with my radio?"

Tony laughed, twisted in his seat to look out the back window, before letting out a little whoop and slouching back down. “Calm down, Brooklyn,” he suggested, slapping a hand down on Bucky’s thigh, which would have seemed innocent enough if he hadn’t left his hand there after. Bucky tried not to tense up or respond in any obvious way to the touch, even if it did feel incredibly good. Too good, maybe.

"Who’re we running from, anyway?" He managed to ask casually.

"I didn’t get your name," Tony answered, evading, fingertips digging ever so slightly into the muscles of Bucky’s thigh. "I can’t just keep calling you handsome, people would talk."

He tore his attention from the road long enough to look into twinkling, mischievous eyes. “James,” he answered, even though no one called him that.

"Well, James," and something about the way Tony said his name made Bucky want to take him home. Which, yeah, that hadn’t exactly been anything he’d felt since getting shipped back, either. "Thanks. I’m far too pretty for prison, so this is much appreciated."

"Prison. Wait, the  _police_  were after you?”

Of course, the first time he puts himself out there since leaving the Army it turns out he’s helping a fugitive. He’s a getaway driver! Steve will kill him when he finds out.

"Uh, well, sure, but really, I’m only stealing from myself, so, nothing you need to get your panties in a bunch over."

"Right, so guess I’ll just pull over."

Tony removed his hand from Bucky’s thigh, which really, that was a bummer, but probably for the best. He also shifted in his seat, and let out a sigh.

"Look, it’s a long story, but basically this monster that worked with my dad has been doing some shady shit with the family business, and I just managed to snag some proof of that, only I wasn’t  _quite_  as stealthy as I thought, and so maybe the police showed up. But you’re fine, you haven’t done anything wrong, unless you like the idea of our troops getting dicked over in order to make one particularly spectacular asshole a little richer.”

Bucky twitched, wondered if Tony had already noticed the prosthetic, was taking a shot in the dark, trying to win his sympathies, but no, he was looking out the window, seemed oblivious to the nerve he’d struck.

"Still got friends over there, actually." And just like that, he had Tony’s full attention. "So where do you need to go?"

Tony was quiet for a moment. “Where were you going before I jumped in?”

"Home."

"Cool, let’s do that."

"You want me to bring you home with me?" Bucky turned off the radio. The guitars were giving him a headache.

Tony fidgeted. “If someone looks into the cars leaving the area at the time of the incident, it’ll look less suspicious.”

Which made a little sense, but  _still_. Of course, his other option was dropping Tony off and then never seeing him again, and that didn’t sound like a good end to an adventure, either. Besides, Tony was awfully easy on the eyes.

"Alright."

"Yeah?"

Bucky shrugged. “I’ve done crazier.”

"Yes! James, you’re my hero," Tony whooped, reaching for the radio again. Bucky slapped his hand away. "So, just got friends over there, or?"

The question hung uncomfortably in the air, and he could feel Tony preparing to open his mouth, probably to apologize, when he finally managed to answer, “Disability discharge.”

"Psychological or physical?"

"Both. Turns out your thoughts get a little funny when your friends get blown up in front of you," and strangely, his voice was steady. "Got a prosthetic arm as a souvenir, though, so. Can’t say Uncle Sam never gave me nothing."

Tony whistled through his teeth, and oddly enough the hand came back, settled high on his thigh, as if they’ve known each other a lifetime. As if it’s perfectly normal to touch a stranger like that. Although, considering Tony had hopped into his car during a police pursuit, he should probably count himself lucky he was dealing with touchy-feely instead of, say, having a gun shoved in his face.

"Sorry to hear that," and it doesn’t rankle the way a lot of other apologies he’s heard since coming home have. Tony’s voice is low, and serious, and his fingers are warm. "You should let me buy you a drink. Or a new car."

"Ha ha, don’t knock her, she just pulled your ass out of the fire."

"Fair enough. How ‘bout the drink?"

Which sounds a little like he’s being asked out. But, no way was he  _that_  lucky. Ready to pass on the offer, Bucky turned, found Tony watching him, something like hope in his eyes.

"Sure. Why not?"

"That’s the spirit," Tony answered, clapping his hands together in triumph. "This is turning into a stellar day!"

Bucky smiled to himself, stealing glances at his passenger. Well. At the very least he’d have something to report when Steve called to check in on him.

"My hero." Tony shot a thousand watt smile his direction, and Bucky’s stomach did a little flip flop of anticipation.

He could get used to feeling like a hero.


End file.
